


Home?

by indefensibleselfindulgence



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Character Study, Drabble, Gen, Other, Reminiscing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-09 14:05:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19477444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indefensibleselfindulgence/pseuds/indefensibleselfindulgence
Summary: “That's just- it's interesting.” He says in the way the Archivist always does before he's about to say something very stupid. “That you're settling down. Is all.”





	Home?

**Author's Note:**

> oh nbd just me being in love with the distortion you know business as usual

“Home?” 

She turns to stare at the Archivist as he steps down into his office from her corridors. Basira was in a break room, with Daisy, and it's still such a novelty to use names for her new friends. It's such a novelty to have friends. For Helen, specifically, to have friends. 

“Hmm?” The Archivist sits at his desk already, a little out of breath from the walk maybe, and she did make him walk, and maybe run, just a little bit, because he still hasn't really apologized, but only for a little bit. Because she's so very nice.

“You called this home?” 

“Oh- yes.” She had, hadn't she? 

Such a novelty, too, having a home. 

Her door sits nestled on top of a closed Buried hole. She was there when the earth engulfed the thing that was and wasn't Sasha James. She, of course, wasn't a she then, wasn't even Helen then, but she thought she'd like the spot for herself. And she does. It's very cozy in that sort of way that only To-Tight-I-Can-Not-Breathe could be. 

And if she's very quiet and very shockingly still, while her friends sleep, she thinks she could still hear the phantom gasps of a many faced, many-bodied, many lived monster. 

“That's just- it's interesting.” He says in the way the Archivist always does before he's about to say something very stupid. “That you're settling down. Is all.” 

Ah yes. 

Right on schedule. 

He really is very predictable, her Archivist is. She really doesn't know why any of the others are having any trouble with him at all. 

“I've made friends, Archivist.” She says and smiles and the Archivist, to his credit, doesn't even wince. She's as proud of him as she is annoyed with him. 

Which is to say very and always. 

“Right- Right.” He looks down at his desk, makes a show of moving some papers around. “And- and you like that? Friends and-” He swallows. “Home?” 

“More then, I thought I would.” But then, maybe that's a little bit of a lie. She's had friends before, back when she wasn't a she, or even Helen, or even Michael really. Back when they were many faced and ever-present, twisting silly little human minds into beautiful endless patterns. She remembers them as fondly as she thinks of Melanie now. 

She does miss them. 

She wonders if she'll ever see them again. 

Experience them again.

“And are-” He coughs. “Are we friends?” 

“Only if you want to be, Archivist.” She singsongs a little bit, letting her voice do the things Michael used to do with it. 

She thinks she can feel The Dark contorting something inside of herself, somewhere rather deep. 

“I-” The Archivist nods before shaking his head, and she finds her self with her twisting smile again. “It would be easier if I knew you.” 

“Oh, but Archivist, you could never really Know me. Not in that awful obnoxious little way you do.” 

“I knew Michael.” 

“And Michael is gone, isn't he?” Which, maybe that's a little bit of a lie too. 

He doesn't say anything after that for a few moments at least, and the twist in the corridors happens again, almost like that pesky little thing is bending the light around itself in ways that are starting to hurt. 

“Are- Are you alright?” 

“Hm?” 

“You're- uh- creaking.” 

Oh. 

Yes, she is. 

It's an grating sound coming from around her left shoulder blade, or where that would be, if she had one, that she would really rather not put up with. 

“If you excuse me, I have to go solve your problems for you again.” 

“I never asked you to-” 

“You didn't have to, Archivist. That's just what friends do for each other.” 

“I see.” He says slowly, and rubs the back of his neck. 

“That's fine, Archivist. I didn't expect you to understand it anyway.”

**Author's Note:**

> comments are always encouraged and very very very appreciated
> 
> find me on[ tumblr ](http://iamalivenow.tumblr.com/) and [ twitter](https://twitter.com/licotain)


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